Chill
by Starzki
Summary: Sango realizes that Miroku's womanizing isn't the only thing keeping them apart. One step forward, two steps back (and then maybe one and a half steps forward).


Chill

By Starzki

Disclaimer: Miroku and Sango are characters created and developed by Rumiko Takahashi and I'm not profiting from writing this little fic.

Author's Note: This is a fic for Lady Griddlebone for the Secret MiroSanta 2015 fic/art exchange. Her prompt was "Cuddling after a fight." Thank you so much for organizing and seeing this exchange through. I'm honored that you chose me to write something for you. I hope that you like it. Also, thanks to Scribe Figaro for beta-ing this not once but TWICE!

-x-

 _The ice is thin, come on, dive in,  
Underneath my lucid skin,  
The cold is lost, forgotten._

 _-Sarah McLachlan, "Ice"_

-x-

Sango didn't need to hurry. The rest of her group wasn't expecting her back from her village until later that evening. However, Sango didn't walk along the path beside the rugged cliff; she jogged and kept a quick pace.

The wind was really picking up. A weather front was coming through, turning the mild autumn afternoon quite cold. Normally, this wouldn't bother Sango at all, but she had run into a surprisingly bothersome centipede demon on the outskirts of her village and had worked up a bit of a sweat before defeating it. The turn in weather quickly cooled Sango. It was the kind of chill that went through to one's bones and Sango knew that even when changed into dry clothes and got out of the elements, it would be quite a while before she warmed all the way through. What she wanted was a hot spring, but what she would settle for is sitting in front of a roaring fire with her friends.

Sango made fists and flexed her fingers that were already getting stiff with the cold weather. She was afraid if she slowed down or stopped that she would get even colder. She guessed it would be another half hour before she returned to their latest camp.

Minutes later, in the distance, she saw a figure with familiar purple robes. Fear instantly shot through her. Was something wrong back at the village? Were her friends under attack? What was wrong?

Another moment and she calmed. The monk wasn't hurrying towards her. His motions were fluid and steady. He wasn't searching the horizon for her, and was only at that moment raising his hand in greeting. He probably only wanted to get away from Inuyasha and Kagome and their recent quarrels. Sango started to feel a giddy sensation at the thought he'd come out just to spend some time with her alone. A spark of warmth glowed in her belly.

"Hello!" he called as he neared.

"Is everything alright?" Sango answered.

"Oh, yes. Kagome suddenly remembered one of her tests," his voice lowered in volume as they neared each other, "and she and Inuyasha took off for the well. I wanted to come find you before you got back to camp and found it empty."

"I see. Thank you, Houshi-sama."

Miroku suddenly hesitated and looked Sango up and down. "You've been in combat." It was almost a question.

Sango pulled at the damp collar of her yukata, embarrassed at its disheveled state. "Ah, yes. It's nothing, but my slayer kit was still drying from the wash, so I cannot change yet."

"You're not injured, are you?" Miroku sounded concerned.

Sango surprised them both with her bark of a laugh. She brought up a hand and hid her smile behind it. "No, Houshi-sama. I've been fighting demons more powerful than that since I was only ten years old. It was just a little harder to do in skirts."

Miroku smiled at her reaction. One of his real smiles, which were so rare and so often saved only for her. She would have blushed if not for the sudden gust of wind that raced along the cliff side, chilling her even more.

Sango couldn't resist shivering. Her nose was beginning to run. How unfortunate. She liked this positive attention from the monk, and of course it was happening when she was rumpled, sweaty, cold, and snotty. She must be quite the sight to behold: exactly what every man fantasized about. Except not.

The smile never left Miroku's eyes as he took in her shudder. "You're cold." Again, it was almost a question.

"I will be fine, Houshi-sama. We should get back to camp. I would love the fire right now."

"Nonsense. First of all, there is no more camp and no fire to warm you up in front of. Secondly, if we continue to walk in this weather, you'll only get more and more cold. We'll just wait it out. At least here we can put the cliff at our backs."

Sango nodded slowly. There was some logic to his words, though she suspected that continuing to walk would probably keep her warmer than sitting still. Yet he was suggesting they huddle together and she couldn't bring herself to deny him. That her teeth were threatening to chatter, even as they walked helped her make up her mind.

They walked for a few minutes until they found an area with both a soft ground and an outcropping of stone along the wall. This way, they could be shielded on two sides and not just one.

Sango sat first, knees drawn up under her chin, pressing her left side into the corner. Instead of following her, Miroku began to fuss with the bow on his kesa. In seconds, it was off, and he was sitting to Sango's right and wrapping them in his warm purple robe.

Sango sniffed in the cool evening air, thankful it was harsh enough to keep her blush at bay. The kesa was warm and smelled of him. There were the light aromas of candle oil and incense. Burnt sage and musk.

Miroku snaked his left arm around Sango's shoulder and pulled her so that she was pressed to his side, but not too tight. "I think this will do to warm you up," he said, another genuine smile in his eyes.

"Mm," was all Sango could say. This wasn't the first time he had held her like this, offering comfort. It was, however, the first time he holding her like this when she wasn't sad or distraught after a recent setback with Kohaku. In fact, she was in a relatively good mood, if a little (a lot) cold.

The wind whistled through the crags and cracks of the cliff, alternating low and high in pitch, depending on its intensity. She flexed her hands beneath their blanket, hating the numb cold feeling in her fingers. She took a hesitant breath, then clutched Miroku, or rather at the robes at his left side, feeling the instant relief of warmth. "Sorry, my hands are very cold."

While Miroku didn't jump away, his eyebrows betrayed his surprise and his grin showcased his delight. "It's quite alright, Sango. I don't mind at all."

Sango tried to seem aloof, as though the situation wasn't affecting her at all, but she liked his smile, the real one. And she was finally beginning to admit to herself that she liked more than that about him. He was awful and would one day break her heart, she knew, but there were so many things about him that she liked. Like his scent. She brought the kesa up to her nose and inhaled deeply.

In times like these, when he wasn't grabby or inappropriate, when there weren't other women to distract him, Sango felt she was actually seeing who he really was. He was an incredibly handsome young man who would do anything for her. She knew, likewise, she would do anything for him. He liked her. And she was falling in love with him.

Cold shot through her at that thought and she shivered again. Miroku noticed and pulled the kesa higher and rubbed her shoulder. "The weather turning like this could make you sick if you don't take care," he said. "Even if you weren't soaked through with sweat, this weather would have been quite unpleasant for you."

Sango scowled. She felt gross. What was worse is that she could smell the odor of her own sweat over the sweet smells from Miroku's kesa. Though her skin had long dried, her wrappings and yukata were still damp from earlier exertions and giving off a musty, slightly salty smell.

She turned her head away from Miroku. "I know I must not smell very nice. I apologize."

Miroku snorted. Then, surprising Sango, he pulled her close and buried his nose against her neck and took a large inhalation.

"Houshi-sama!" she cried, scandalized.

Miroku let out a laugh and still held her close. "I smell sunshine through the leaves of a tree in autumn" he stated with confidence.

"Don't make fun, Houshi-sama. I know I stink."

Miroku caught Sango's eyes in his own. His pupils were large and dark and shone with both sincerity and impish delight. With careful deliberation, he said, "I meant what I said. The way you smell is almost intoxicating to me." His mouth remained parted, as if he wanted to say something more, but he held back.

Sango broke the intense eye contact and chuckled. "You like the way I stink?" She tried to lighten the mood a little. Things were going so well she was afraid he'd ruin it if she continued to let that moment build.

He squeezed her in a kind of half-hug and answered, "Yes, I do."

Sango laughed again. She leaned into him, starting to warm but still feeling oddly cold inside. Her hands were definitely trembling in a way Miroku could probably feel, but it had less to do with the cold than the thrill of sitting so intimately with a man she liked.

Ahead of them, the only sight was dense forest in the distance. Tree limbs shook in the violent air. Wind ripped away the colorful leaves, stripping branches bare, leaving Sango feeling sad at the loss.

Instead of focusing on this view, she surreptitiously turned her attention to her companion, peering up at him through her eyelashes. No doubt he noticed, but he was pretending not to for the time being.

She liked the line of his jaw and wondered what he would look like if his hair was loose. Probably ridiculously handsome. His expression remained slightly amused, even as he stared into the distance. For once, Sango could detect no deviousness in him and was pleased at how well that its lack suited his features. If only he was like this more often, Sango knew she'd be helpless to reject his request to bear his children.

Oh, what an idea. A blush definitely spread across her cheeks at that thought. She was finally warm enough for that to happen, which she considered both good and bad. Her fingers tingled as warmth filled them and she knew Miroku would soon realize that not only was she radiating heat from a blush that only kept growing, she was blushing at her own thoughts of him.

She tried closing her eyes, but every detail of his profile was seared in her mind. And then the image behind her eyes began to move on its own, according to her desires. He would turn, cup her cheek and lightly bring his lips down to meet hers. It would be gentle and perfect.

Okay, now it was getting out of hand. Sango opened her eyes and let the kesa drop a little, welcoming the cool air for a moment to help stop the spread of her blush down her neck and chest.

Miroku's left eyebrow lifted a millimeter in response to her movement. He turned his head to look at her and smiled again. He had definitely noticed her blush.

He licked his lips, a quick dart of his tongue before he pressed his lips together. He looked like he was about to say something, eyes searching at nothing briefly. He even parted his mouth a little, but at the last moment seemed to decide better of it. He then reached over with his right hand and brought it to the side of Sango's head.

She stilled, waiting for his next move, both excited and nervous. Her breath had suddenly gotten deeper and slower, preparing for his touch. He moved his hand again, producing a small leaf plucked from her hair.

"Oh," Sango said, glad it didn't sound as disappointed as she felt.

With a flick, he let the leaf go with the ripping wind, off to find his brothers, maybe. And then Miroku brought his hand up toward her again. His own breath had deepened noticeably. There was even a slight shudder to it, as if he was excited or nervous about something. His eyes were a mixture of emotions that included amusement, determination, and even a little anxiety.

He licked his lips again. He cupped her cheek, gently angling her face up to meet his. His eyes were almost closed, narrowly focused on her mouth. For a moment, Sango felt joyous. It was happening. And just the way she wanted it to.

Pure adrenaline shot through Sango's system as Miroku slowly leaned down. It was cold and icy in her veins, bringing alarm and panic. She couldn't do this. Something was too wrong. Instinct was screaming at her to stop it from happening. It would be too much. She couldn't handle whatever would happen next.

Miroku was less than an inch from her mouth when Sango ducked her face into his shoulder. She was trembling again, this time with fear and disappointment.

Miroku completely froze and Sango mentally kicked herself again and again. What had just happened? What was wrong with her? She had, only moments before, wanted nothing more than a sweet kiss from Miroku and she had ruined everything.

Miroku leaned back and Sango pulled her head off of his shoulder and looked at him. His face was composed, though he also had a small blush splashed across his cheeks. She wasn't sure if it was his earlier desire or embarrassment at her rejection.

She imagined it must be the former because no other rejection, by her or any other woman, had ever fazed him at all. He had _wanted_ her.

This realization further worried Sango's nerves. Yes, there were times he'd wanted to cop a feel, but this was different. He could be exactly the man she wanted, even for a little while. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, he could really be the man she wanted forever. And relying on his forever meant being vulnerable to that forever being taken away again, and that scared her more than anything.

She took a shaky breath, fisting her hands in the robes at his sides with determination.

"I don't trust you, Houshi-sama."

Even though he was staring at the forest, Sango saw his eyes harden. In fact, his whole body stiffened next to her at this confession. He quickly blinked that hurt away and swallowed, accepting her words. His face wasn't disappointed, if anything he looked determined: brows low, mouth set.

Sango continued. "At least that's what I used to think. But that's not true. I do trust you, Houshi-sama. I trust you with my life."

Miroku's blinked again, this time in surprise. Then, his eyes slowly widened and he turned his head to her, mouth opening to answer her.

Sango cut him off, her voice small but determined. "It's me that I don't trust. I'm sorry." A weight lifted off of her as she said it. She couldn't blame him for everything that went wrong between them and owning that truth felt like justice.

Miroku blinked dumbly at Sango for a long moment before he smiled again, relaxation draining the stiffness from his muscles. "I see," he said, the smile in his voice if not on his face. "You're not ready. I can understand that."

He settled back next to her, making himself comfortable yet again. Sango smiled, relieved at his understanding. She almost missed the impish smirk, but caught it just as his hand lowered from her shoulder to move down toward her bottom.

Surprised, Sango nearly jumped out of her skin as she squeaked and elbowed Miroku in the side. Their proximity stole any momentum she could get and she found that she was beginning to laugh.

"I just thought you would be comfortable with something a little more familiar," Miroku protested as the offending hand snaked up her midriff, targeting her left breast.

Sango squirmed and laughed again, poking her fingers into Miroku's side and finding, to her overwhelming delight, that he was ticklish. His laugh was sudden and loud. Miroku's hand forgot its mission as it pulled away to defend against Sango's newfound assault. He countered by trying (and succeeding) to find her own ticklish spots. Their giggles and cries of delight merged and echoed together before the wind carried them off.

And for the next 10 minutes, the two fought off the cold and bluster under the blanket by finding the spots that would make each other laugh the hardest.

Sango wasn't sure when she lost the chill in her bones that day, but by the time they were ready to make their way back to Kaede's village, she felt toasty and warm, through and through.

 _Simmer down and pucker up.  
I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp _

_Of trying to kiss you.  
I don't know if you feel the same as I do,  
But we could be together if you wanted to._

 _-Arctic Monkeys "Do I Wanna Know?"_

END.

* * *

AN2: This was fantastic fun to write. I hope you liked reading it half as much!


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